


The Agreement

by wanderingflame



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-08
Updated: 2010-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingflame/pseuds/wanderingflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Ezio and Leonardo had met--and fucked--before they were introduced by Ezio's mother, but neither of them knew it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Another AC kink meme fill, originally posted [here](http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/16841.html?thread=2104777#t2104777).
> 
> Visuals for the masks:  
> [Bauta](http://bit.ly/a4FwZ7)  
> [Gatto berta](http://bit.ly/9xgyoX)  
> [Gatto arlecchino](http://bit.ly/9KbOGk)  
> [Leonardo's mask](http://bit.ly/aFDc3m)

When the knock at his door drew Leonardo away from his studies of the latest body donated by the city, he did not expect his visitor to be the lovely woman dressed in red who waited patiently on the other side.

“ _Madonna_ Paola!” Leonardo said, surprised and delighted. He stepped forward automatically to hug her then, remembering where his hands had been last, he instead gestured her in. “One moment, let me just clean up.” Paola smiled, quiet amusement in her eyes as she entered with her usual grace and took a seat to wait. Once he’d scrubbed his hands clean, Leonardo returned to the main room and gave her a friendly hug.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry, perhaps? I may have some wine lying about and some cheese,” Leonardo said, though he cast his gaze around the room doubtfully. Paola chuckled and waved for him to sit down instead.

“No, _grazie_ ,” she said. “How have you been?”

“Well, I suppose. I have plenty of commissions, I just lack the time or inspiration to do them,” he admitted. “And how are you? Business is well?”

“ _Sì_ ,” she said, and he noticed her smile was slightly mysterious, as if she knew something he didn’t. He must have looked confused because her smile widened. “I have a proposition for you, my friend.”

He had met Paola shortly after setting up his workshop in Firenze. She simply showed up one day saying she had heard of his work and commissioned a simple portrait of herself to hang in her office. When he’d asked what her business was, she had quite casually answered: a brothel. Once he’d gotten over his initial surprise, they talked more and he’d found her to be a very intelligent, well-read woman. Since then, she visited him every so often and occasionally sent potential patrons his way.

Somehow, in that first visit, she had correctly deduced that his tastes were not in line with most men. When she had come to pick up the finished portrait on her next visit, she’d casually recommended a few places in the city that were discreet and accommodating to his preferences. Leonardo recognized that same slightly amused yet calculating look in her eyes now.

“Oh? Sounds interesting,” he replied, if a bit uncertainly. She chuckled again.

“Perhaps I should explain. I have an associate who runs a brothel near the goldsmiths' quarter. I think you know of the area?”

Leonardo felt his stomach drop. He knew of it; it was the part of town where she’d sent him back when they had first met. But what had once been an sometime haven for brief delights now felt like a hell after an anonymous accusation had landed him in jail. He’d escaped a guilty verdict—and the penalty of death that went with it—but it had been unsettling to say the least and since them, he’d avoid that area like the plague.

“My friend has run into a bit of a problem,” Paola continued as if she didn’t notice his sudden blanching. “A couple of local boys—brothers, no less—have been sneaking in to receive ‘services’ free of charge. They happen to belong to a notable family of the city and my friend doesn’t want to create any trouble by going to the city guards. However, he’s not sure simply banishing them from the brothel will work since they can be very…adept at getting in and the girls are sweet on them. I was visiting last week when my friend explained all of this and asked for my advice. I suggested they resolve the issue quietly, perhaps find a way for the brothers work off the debt.” The mischievous glint in Paola’s eyes brightened and Leonardo suspected he knew where this was leading.

“The elder brother has quite the silver tongue and the younger is also a charmer. Somehow my suggestion, as benign as it was intended, has turned into an agreement where the younger brother will ‘entertain’ a small party of guests with particular tastes, in exchange for their debts being wiped clean.”

Leonardo sighed as he thought this over, then frowned as a loose thread came to mind.

“How does your friend benefit?”

“Apparently some of his clients have been 'making do' with his girls but they desire the real thing,” Paola said. “The options available are not, how should I put it, up to standard? They offered my friend a sizable amount should he find a willing participant that fit their standards. I suppose either brother would do, but having seen them, I must say the younger is quite a sight.”

“Well, I really have no spare coin,” he began, seeing an easy way out, but Paola held up a hand.

“That is not an issue. I will cover your fee.”

“What? Why?”

“Leonardo, we have known each other for some time. Can I not give you a gift?” When he rolled his eyes at her innocent look, she chuckled. “ _Va bene_. I did not like to see you go through that business with the Office of the Night. It was ugly and shameful, not to mention an obvious ploy to discredit you. I know you have not visited that part of the city since.” She reached out to pat his arm, her smile now sympathetic. “You are just a man with desires, Leonardo, though they may differ from some. I see no reason why you should not indulge yourself in them, given the opportunity to do so safely and secretly. Since such a chance has arisen, I wanted to offer it to you.”

“I don’t know…”

“I understand your worry but this will be very discreet. None of us wish to be caught and prosecuted for what should be a bit of fun. Everyone will wear a mask and the ‘guests’ are those we deem most-trustworthy.” She smiled when Leonardo’s eyebrows rose a little at this, then she stood to leave. As they said goodbye and he kissed her cheeks, she paused in the doorway, a sly smile gracing her lips.

“Think on it, Leonardo. If nothing else, you should come to watch. I think you’d find this young man to be quite inspiring.” She handed him a small envelope sealed with wax. “These are instructions, should you decide to join us.”

She left him to his thoughts, damning as they were, and after two hours of staring at a canvas in an unproductive silence, he gave up trying. He broke the seal on the letter, telling himself that reading it would not be committing to go and knowing at the same time he had already made up his mind.

 

* * *

 

Two nights later, he hesitantly approached the house the letter had directed him to, a little nervous at the lack of decoration or lighting on the outside. He felt rather foolish, dressed in a simple shirt and pants—again, per the letter's instructions—and wearing a silver _columbino_ mask that covered everything except a half-moon space under his nose. When several figures detached themselves from the shadows of the building and approached him, he almost turned and fled, thinking them thieves. Then they sauntered into the light cast by a nearby lamp and he saw it was courtesans.

“Looking for some company?” one of them purred as they sidled up on either side of him.

“Ah, well, I was looking for a taste of _Carnevale_ ,” he stammered, using the phrase given to him in the note. He was relieved when he saw understanding dawn in their eyes and then the one who had spoken hooked her arm through his.

“Right this way, then, _Signore_.”

They led him to the door half-hidden by shadows and a small part of Leonardo’s mind registered that this was quite clever of Paola or whoever the other brothel owner was. Anyone watching them would assume he was being led in for the usual activities.

The building on the inside was more like what he’d imagined, decorated lavishly with fine silks and cozy couches, and lit by the warm glow of several lamps with tinted glass. He took all this in with his usual curiosity, his mind immediately turning to the question of how different shades of light would affect the subjects of his paintings, when a soft chuckle interrupted his thoughts. He faced forward to see a woman in a gown of deep burgundy, wearing a _gatto berta_ mask in red and gold. The feline look gave her eyes a mischievous twinkle as she leaned forward.

“I thought you might not come,” she murmured and Leonardo realized it was Paola behind the mask. “The festivities will have started, but you are not so late as to miss all the fun.” A knowing smile curled beneath her mask and then she stepped back and nodded to the women flanking Leonardo. They guided him away towards a hallway hidden off to the side by a dark red cloth and at the end of this hallway was a staircase leading down. When they reached the end, the courtesan who had linked arms with him disentangled herself to step back and gesture to a door to the right.

“When you are finished, you may retire here to rest; there is also a rope that rings a bell. Pull it and it will call one of us to escort you out,” she explained. Leonardo nodded, grateful that the mask hid his embarrassed flush. It was not as if he had not come to this area for a secret meeting before, but it had never felt so scandalous. The woman smiled kindly, possibly sensing his nervousness, then stepped to the door on the left. When he nodded again, she opened it enough for him to slip in, and then closed it behind him.

This room was just as lavish as upstairs. A giant four poster bed sat against the wall to his right, drapes of rich red dipping between each post enough to cast shadows and give the illusion of privacy, while not completely hiding a person from view. He also noted padded leather cuffs attached to each post. Opposite the bed was a chaise that sat parallel and at either end, in the room's corners, was a stand with a basin, water pitcher and several clothes. On one of these sat an opened bottle of wine with several half-full glasses. There were fewer lamps in this room, casting a muted yellow glow, perhaps to preserve the feeling of secrecy. The room's occupants were in the center, between the bed and chaise, and didn’t seem to notice as Leonardo approached.

They had begun already, as Paola had said, but they were not far along in their “play”. Three men surrounded a fourth, all in varying states of dress and all wearing masks. It was easy to tell who the “prize” was, though, for his _gatto arlecchino_ mask left the lower half of his face bare, mostly likely so his mouth could be taken. The red and gold checkered pattern seemed to glow in the soft lighting and complimented his brown hair; Leonardo felt the first itch for his drawing tools. Paula had been right: this young man was _gorgeous_ , even with his face partly hidden.

The other men wore the more traditional white _bauta_ masks, with the jutting chin that left room between the mouth and mask to make it easier to drink and speak. Leonardo felt almost self-conscious in his silver mask, self-styled in his younger days as an apprentice.

He paused by the corner of the bed and that was when the young man in the center turned his head and golden-brown eyes locked on Leonardo. His heart skipped a beat at the sensuous, playful smirk curving the other man’s lips and he put one hand on the bedpost, trying not to be reeled in closer. He had told himself he would only watch, his one condition for being too weak to resist the temptation to come here. The young man gave him an once-over and as his gaze trailed down Leonardo’s body, he felt his cock stiffen as if that look was a physical touch. When the golden eyes met his again, that smirk was a little wider, as if he was pleased with what he saw.

The other men made quick work of his clothes and their own as Leonardo watched, his gaze dropping to take in the prize’s half-hard cock once it was revealed. It was perfect, _he_ was perfect. Leonardo ached to run his hands over every inch of that smooth skin, to trace the contours and dips with his tongue, to capture it—however futilely—on canvas. Instead, he had to watch hungrily as the other men touched him, their curious fingers drawing shivers and appreciative noises from the young man, especially when one them ghosted fingers along his cock. He accepted the roaming hands for a few minutes then reached out to grasp two erections, stroking firmly in a way that had both men groaning. He glanced again at Leonardo, who nearly groaned himself at just the heat in those eyes, and then he was dropping to his knees, turning his head to take the third man’s cock into his mouth.

They alternated taking his mouth and he continued to stroke whoever was not on the receiving end. Leonardo’s grip on the bedpost became white-knuckled as he fought the urge to reach down and take himself in hand. It was near-agony but he knew it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as if he had those lips around him. From the sounds the other men were making, their prize was very talented with his mouth. In fact, after only a few moments, one of the men gave a strangled cry and stiffened, gripping the young man’s head in place as he spent himself. Leonardo thought to protest—surely he would _choke_ —but the young man took it calmly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before pulling away. His eyes slid over to Leonardo, lips red and swollen but still with a hint of a smile, and the painter felt a shiver roll through him.

The man who’d finished quickly gathered his clothes and left, glancing at Leonardo in surprise when he passed him. Leonardo wanted desperately to take his place in that circle—he could feel the pull in those golden eyes—but he stayed where he was, watching as the other two continued the oral play a little longer. Before either of them came, though, one drew away to fetch a small jar from one of the tables. He and the other guest maneuvered the young man onto the chaise so that he was crouched, hands-and-knees, on it. This allowed one to continue taking his mouth with leisurely thrusts, while the other prepared him for more.

As fingers disappeared behind the swell of his ass cheek, the young man closed his eyes, hands tightening on the edges of the chaise just slightly. It was the first break in that calm, relaxed demeanor so far and Leonardo wondered suddenly if he’d ever been taken before. The thought made his cock twitch eagerly and he wanted to push the other guest aside and take the price himself. Instead, he clung to the bedpost and watched until the white-masked man had worked three fingers in and the young man had relaxed enough to push back against them a little. The guest removed his fingers and guided the young man’s hips down until bit by bit, his cock began to sink into that perfect ass. The one in front of him had backed off, allowing the young man to focus on relaxing, but once fully-seated, a cock-head was bumping against his cheek impatiently.

As his lips slid over it again, a flash of tongue visible as he swirled around the head, his gaze flickered to Leonardo again and held as the man behind him began to thrust shallowly. Leonardo, for one desperate moment, thought he would have to cuff himself to the bed to keep from walking over but then the young man shut his eyes, giving himself over to the men at both ends. Although the hypnotic tug was gone, Leonardo could still only watch hungrily as the two men strove toward completion, their movements growing rougher with each passing moment. He saw the young man's cock swaying, neglected, and fought the temptation to rush over and take it in hand, to watch as he came undone.

The man in front came first, jerking back suddenly as he let out a moan and holding his cock steady to paint white stripes across the man’s mask and open mouth. A moment later, the one behind grabbed his hips and held him tightly as he thrust raggedly the last few times, sagging against the chaise’s back when he was done.

The first man staggered to the low table with the basin of water and dampened a cloth to wipe at himself, then dropped it on the chaise. He picked up his clothes and walked out, barely even glancing at Leonardo. The young was still braced against the chaise, panting lightly, when the other man pulled out and stood. He didn’t even bother with a cloth, just grabbed his clothes and hurried out, leaving Leonardo alone with the prize, who hadn’t yet looked up.

Leonardo closed his eyes, trying desperately to calm his racing pulse and find the control needed to walk out. No amount of willing would make the bulge in his breeches go away, but he could deal with it once he was out of this place, where the heavy scent of sex hung in the air.

“Still so shy, _Signore_?” came a husky voice, sounding a little breathless. Leonardo’s eyes flew open, startled, and he saw the young man had shifted and picked up one of the forgotten wine glasses. He reclined against the chaise unashamedly, his cock still hard and standing up against his stomach. He had wiped the mess from his face with the cloth and watched him almost lazily, like a cat considering its next meal. Leonardo opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out and finally he closed it, grateful again for the mask that hid his blush; somehow, there was a glimmer of amusement in the young man’s eyes that suggested he could tell anyway. As he stared, unable to think of a suitable reply, the other man downed the wine and rose to his feet, almost a little stiffly. Then he started towards Leonardo, who couldn't help his gaze traveling over that perfect body again; this time the young man chuckled.

“If you see something you like,” he murmured as he closed the distance, “why not take it?” This close, Leonardo caught a faint whiff of the wine but then it didn’t matter because the young man was kissing him and he could _taste_ it as a tongue pushed into his mouth to brush against his. He responded eagerly, too wound up from having only watched to hold back now. Then there was a hand cupping his crotch and the artist moaned and pushed against it desperately, wanting to weep as fingers massaged his length through the cloth of his pants. Before he could do more than tease, though, the young man moved his hand away, grinning against Leonardo’s lips at the frustrated cry this provoked. When he sank to his knees and began working the ties to Leonardo's breeches, the artist felt a touch of sanity return.

“A-are you sure?” he asked breathlessly, and when the young man tilted his head, puzzled, he felt himself blush again. “You do not, um, need a rest?” Slowly, understanding came to the other man and he smiled; not the smug smirk from before but one that was warm and thoughtful.

“ _Grazie_ for your concern, _Signore_ , but my desire far outweighs my weariness.” He pulled Leonardo’s cock free and licked along the underside from root to tip before swallowing nearly all of it, his hand wrapping around what he couldn’t. Leonardo let out a shout as he did so, leaning back against the bed with his fists clenched in the bedsheets, willing himself not to come yet. _Dio mio_ , it was every bit as incredible as he’d thought when he’d just been watching. The man’s lips were firm and tight around him and he alternated swirling his tongue around the head and pulling back almost all the way to lap at the slit. Despite a firm pressure at the base of his cock, Leonardo could tell he was losing the battle to hang on. When he looked down, he saw the young man watching him, those golden eyes filled with a hungry lust.

He was once again on the verge of release when the other man pulled away, catching his hands and pinning them to the bed when they moved instantly to finish the job. When Leonardo opened his mouth to protest, the young man stopped him with another kiss, this time tasting of wine with a hint of salty, bitterness. The young man pushed him back against the mattress, climbing on top and straddling his hips even has he practically fucked Leonardo's mouth with his tongue. When he abruptly pulled back, Leonardo was so dazed, he didn't realize the young man's intentions until his cock was guided into slick, tight heat. His hands went to the prize's hips but he was relentless, pushing down at a tortuously slow rate, occasionally making small rocking movements until he was completely seated in Leonardo's lap, hands braced on either side of the artist.

“Enjoying your prize, _Signore_?” he purred against Leonardo's ear as they both took a moment to adjust to the feeling. Leonardo let out a shaky moan and nodded, turning his head to capture those sinful lips in another desperate kiss. He tightened his hold on the man's hips and thrust up, once, feeling the man shudder against him. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to rip his mask off to see his expression better as he rolled his hips again, harder this time, and found the spot he was looking for. The young man's head whipped back with a strained curse and he pushed back against Leonardo, almost begging for more. Leonardo complied, only this time he took the man's cock in hand, wringing a desperate whine from him as he stroked hard and fast.

“ _Così bello_ ,” Leonardo gasped. He thrust up only a couple more times and then the tight clench was too much and he was falling over the edge into white-hot pleasure, feeling one last clench around him as the other man spilled across his hand and chest with a hoarse cry. A moment later, he slumped against Leonardo, breathing heavily. He barely even mumbled in protest when Leonardo carefully pulled out. It was only when the artist eventually tried to ease out from under him that he found himself caught in a surprisingly strong grip. The eyes behind the harlequin mask were tired but pleased as he lifted his head and leaned close to coax another kiss from Leonardo, who felt as if his bones had melted in that explosive moment, sapping all the strength from him.

“I hope,” the young man said, a hint of his smirk returning, “if I ever find myself in debt again, I can count on you to help me work it off.” Leonardo couldn’t held chuckling at that, even as a part of him urged that he needed to leave _now_ , before he grew any more attached to this particular bedmate. The grip on his wrists eased, allowing him to slip out of the bed, albeit reluctantly, and the young man relaxed against the mattress with eyes closed, still smiling.

Leonardo straightened his clothes, took a couple of calming breaths, then left the room with one last glance back at the vision of debauchery on the bed. His legs still trembled as he crossed the hall and he was grateful to find the room empty, the others apparently having already left. He was eager to be rid of the mask, his skin sweaty and itchy beneath it, but the rest of him felt so sated and relaxed in a way he hadn't felt in years. After tugging the fancy rope, he didn't have to wait long before a young woman opened the door, leading him up the stairs without a word.

As he was shown to the door, he caught a glimpse of Paola peeking around a folding divider that hid one corner of the room. The smile below her mask was knowing and he inclined his head briefly, conceding that she had been right to invite him. Her smile broadened and then she turned back to whoever was hidden from view. His escort paused in the doorway to blow a kiss after him as he left, still keeping up appearances.

He slept better that night than he had in a long time.

 

* * *

 

Although he’d sketched furiously for days, he was never satisfied with his attempts to recapture the beauty he’d seen in the masked young man that night. The low lighting and the mask made it difficult to remember his looks clearly and eventually he gave up. The mask went into a box with several others he’d created as an apprentice and was completely forgotten. Two weeks after the “party”, Maria Auditore introduced him to her son Ezio during a visit to pick up some paintings. It was a fortuitous meeting that neither would realize until later, when Ezio showed up with the broken bracer. From that moment on he’d had Ezio on his mind to distract him. First with the challenges of the Codex pages and then—as he spent more time in the man’s company—with guiltier thoughts, often focused on that alluring scar on his lips or the glimpses of skin he'd seen whenever he patched Ezio up.

Given Ezio's reputation with the ladies, Leonardo resolved from the very beginning never to let his growing feelings be known. Especially once they'd traveled to Venezia and he began hearing more and more about the female thief Ezio spent time with. But Leonardo was not unhappy with the way things were. Ezio came by when he had time, even if there was no Codex page to be decrypted, and he seemed to take some joy in Leonardo’s company. That, along with his guilty thoughts late at night, was enough for him.

He was relieved when Ezio finally showed up after the incident with _Doge_ Moncenigo. It had been worrisome enough wondering how he’d fared after the second flight of the flying machine, but then he didn’t hear from the assassin for months. Leonardo had begun to fear the worst and it took a toll on his work, until one night, Ezio just appeared at his workshop and it had taken all of his willpower not to rush over and hug the man fiercely. The new design for his hidden blade had been a welcome distraction.

“Now, about that mask…?” Ezio prompted once Leonardo had explained where to find Antonio.

“Oh yes, of course.” Leonardo moved to his desk, pulling a box from beneath. “You can pick whichever suits your fancy.” He had to smile when Ezio eyed the box warily, with the long dyed-black feathers that stuck out. “Don’t worry, they are not all that elaborate.”

He went back to his drawing table to continue jotting notes on a sketch of the flying machine, adding Ezio’s observations from his flight. Behind him, the items in the box rustled as Ezio picked through them. He became so caught up in his contemplation of what further adjusts needed to be made, he didn’t notice when a silence stretched on behind him.

“Leonardo, where did get these?” Ezio asked quietly.

“I made most of them when I was apprenticed to Verrocchio,” Leonardo replied absently. “After seeing some of my work, the officials in Firenze often put me in charge of festivities and I ended up making several more. Why do you ask?” After a moment, the quality of the silence behind him seemed to register and he turned, frowning in confusion.

Ezio stood by the box, staring down at the mask in his hands, his expression unreadable. Leonardo followed his gaze and felt his heart stop. The mask Ezio held was of beaten silver, its _columbino_ style making it curve just under the nose in a crescent, leaving the mouth free. Leonardo hadn’t seen it since the night nearly 10 years prior when he’d gone to the _Carnevale_ in Firenze. He raised his gaze to Ezio and found the assassin watching him. Time seemed to freeze, that one moment stretching on for an eternity as Leonardo’s eyes widened and _how had he never noticed Ezio’s eyes were the same golden brown?_

“It was _you_ ,” the assassin breathed. Leonardo’s mouth worked as he tried to say _something_ but nothing was coming out and he still couldn’t judge what Ezio’s reaction was to this revelation, or even accept the fact that _Ezio_ was that same young man. Ezio, who he’d been guiltily daydreaming about for almost ten years now, never knowing he didn’t have to imagine what it would be like because they’d already been together.

Ezio suddenly strode forward, crossing the room in a few brisk steps, and Leonardo backed up against his table, still uncertain what the look in his eyes meant until Ezio cupped a hand behind his head and kissed him. Even after the time that had passed, Leonardo hadn’t forgotten the skill of those lips and found himself melting into it, bracing a hand against the table to keep his suddenly weak knees from giving way as he kissed back. Eventually—not until they were both breathless—Ezio pulled back, moving his hand around to brush his thumb against Leonardo's lower lip.

“I must go see Antonio,” he said, and his voice held that same husky quality— _Still so shy,_ Signore?—that made Leonardo shiver. Ezio smirked and again Leonardo was shocked he had never seen the resemblance before. “When I return, we will discuss this further.” He backed up a couple steps and held up the silver mask. “I will take this one to remind me of when I saw it last.” He held Leonardo’s gaze, a familiar heat in his eyes as he backed to the door. Then he slipped out into the night and Leonardo sagged against the table.

He tried to go back to his work but his thoughts kept spinning in stunned circles at what he’d learned until he finally gave up. He wasn’t sure what was more shocking: that Ezio was the “prize” from that night, or that he apparently returned Leonardo’s feelings of desire. When the assassin did return, he announced his presence by sneaking up behind Leonardo to wrap arms around him and pull him back against his chest.

“I want to know how you ended up at that brothel,” Ezio murmured against his ear and just the sound of his voice was making Leonardo's cock stiffen. “But first, I think I owe you quite a lot for all the favors you've done me. Perhaps there is some way I can work it off?” Leonardo turned in the circle of his arms to kiss him hungrily, his hands going to Ezio's waist to hold him still as he rocked against him. As Ezio groaned into his mouth, Leonardo chuckled.

“I think we can come to an agreement.”


End file.
